Flying into Miami on American Airlines flight 1908 from
Port-au-Prince was terrifying. It wasn't the competence of the pilot that was
of concern. Rather, descending out of the darkness into the beautiful but blinding
lights of the American urban landscape was more disorienting than severe
turbulence. The mind--still seared with
the sights, sounds and smells of Haiti--was waking to a different reality, but
the last week had not been a dream. It was all too real. As my friend fetched
me from the door at customs, he asked about what I had experienced on this
trip. I said that I was afraid to start talking because I might not stop, and
then directed the conversation to his family.

But, disjointed words flowed as we drove and later dominated
the dinner conversation at his home. It was compulsive speech--a disgorgement
of emotion and anger. I apologized. His wife, who is a cultural anthropologist
and also my friend, told me that when I write about my latest experiences, I
should term my responses "empathy" and not "compassion" as I had in my past
writing. There is truth in empathy, she said, and what I was experiencing was
attunement to the emotions of the Haitian people. Just tell the stories. Put
yourself back into that space and explain how their emotion transferred itself
into your intellect.

The intellect stretches to describe and explain the harm and
abuse that Haiti endures.

The January 2010 Haiti earthquake that killed up to 300,00
and left 1.5 million or more homeless served to rip the scab off a wound that international
interests inflicted on this island nation over 200 years ago. Now, Haiti is
bleeding more profusely, and those same international interests are scrambling
to dress the wound, but not cure the infection that threatens to turn
cancerous, if it has not already. Haiti is not bloody enough for the cameras
today, so the major news organizations have dashed to Egypt, where there is
great promise for fresh blood that will wash across the camera lenses and raise
ratings, without exposing yet another infection caused by years of international
meddling.

Dying is fascinating. The living are not as interesting. And
it is the living who make up the connective tissue that holds Haitian society
together. Unless they are allowed to heal, Haiti cannot heal. The displaced and
dispossessed are invisible because we do not look closely, preferring to hold
ourselves at a safe distance.

Press view from balcony at le Plaza Hotel by Georgianne Nienaber

Stand on the balcony of the Plaza Hotel on the Champ de Mars
and you will see what CNN shows you. The locals call it "Anderson Cooper's
balcony." The gates of the hotel are guarded, buffering the guests from the
Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camp that is located less than 200 feet
across the street. The camp is one of at least 1300 that appeared after the
quake.

The people who now live there once had homes, businesses,
and family members who were lost in the earthquake. These are individuals and
not acronyms called "IDPs."

Street separating IDP camp from press hotel by Georgianne Nienaber

We crossed the street to find friends and acquaintances we
made over the last year. Immediately inside the rabbit's warren of huts, tents
and shacks, we encountered a man named Henry. We politely said hello, and then Henry wanted to show us where he lived
with his wife and six children--a small shack made of salvaged material, but
proudly featuring a ceiling fan that was miraculously connected to an electrical
source. Whether the contraption was battery or AC-powered was unclear, since
the wires disappeared through the rusted tin roof, but it did provide a whisper
of air movement in the sweltering interior.

Henry and some of his family in their home of the last year by Georgianne Nienber

But, something else was more disturbing than the horrible
conditions the family, which once had a home and small business, had to endure.
The day before, on February 7, small demonstrations took place in
Port-au-Prince. The reasons were not entirely clear, but generally the 300 or
so demonstrators wanted the immediate removal of President Rene Preval. His
term is up. But the election process has been delayed due to vote recounts,
fraud, international pressure, and meddling.

Ballot boxes that should be under lock and key have been
converted to breadboxes at roadside stands. Can you imagine the hue and cry if
that happened during the 2000 US presidential race? The outcome of this
electoral process will determine Haiti's immediate future and the fate of the
homeless in the earthquake zone.

"Breadbox" for President by Georgianne Nienaber

The November 28 elections were critically flawed by all
accounts, but the members of the organization in charge of examining fraud, the
expert verification mission of the Organization of American States (OAS), are
from the United States, Canada, and France. Jamaica is the only Caribbean
nation on the team. Mark Weisbrot of the independent think tank CEPR has an
excellent analysis here.

That is the background behind the demonstrations, but you
can see how the background is already distracting and distancing us from
Henry's story.

Georgianne Nienaber is an investigative environmental and political writer. She lives in rural northern Minnesota, New Orleans and South Florida. Her articles have appeared in The Society of Professional Journalists' Online Quill (more...)